heartbreak on your face
by SebonzaMitsuki27
Summary: IzuruMomo. AU. Promises you don't intend to keep.
1. you're so hot that i melted

**heartbreak on your face**

_I; I'm Yours – Jason Mraz_

– 

_Holding hands seems so natural with her._

_Like breathing, there's no thought involved, it's happening before he realizes. Even before he notices, her fingers have entwined with his, and there's a smile on her face, once which he returns. Soft, quiet, gentle, there it spreads, only slightly. Not many would see it._

_But she knows it's there; registered in her violet orbs, light with giddy happiness. Her lashes seem thicker, darkened by a strange serenity. _

_He thinks she might giggle, burst into spontaneous laughter, as her cheeks flush apple red, and take her somewhere far away. Pink lips part and he thinks she's saying something beyond words, a flutter that escapes them both, but there's nothing except the air that stands between them and the connection of their hands._

_Wind rustles their clothes and lets her hair ripple, free from her usual bun. It suits her, bringing certain roundness to her cheeks, and sweetness to her mouth, and while he wants to say those words, they tremble, and falter away._

_Then she moves, dancing in her doll shoes, and she pulls him along for the ride, and he can hardly complain, though he stumbles over his own feet._

_Because he enjoys this moment, and her laughter flutes away in autumn breezes while maple leaves swirl easily in the air._

_And if he could, he'd want to remember him and her like this forever._

_When they were young and careless and in love and nothing else mattered._

_Him and her._

_Holding hands._

– 

Disclaimer: bleach is not mine.


	2. i'm a cloud drifting by

**heartbreak on your face**

_II; Rootless – Marina and The Diamonds_

– 

She says, "I'm sorry."

He knows. Those two words resonate across the silence, in the breeze of a closing door. Reverberating, her voice sticks to his mouth and leaves an ashen taste on the tip of his tongue that won't go leave. He's heard her say those words so many times, pressed so gently on the corner of his cheek, and now it feels like an echo, fading, forgotten.

Each time he hears her, taking even breaths, warm enough to colour the sun, her voice becomes quieter, dipping into a whisper. If he's being honest, those words sound like the murmur in the recess of his mind. It tells him things that he doesn't wish to hear, things he doesn't wish to say. But he brushes it off, those tiny things and carries on.

He has to.

He must.

Gradually, Izuru notices: the timbre of Momo's voice, sweeping across the room and settles where he is.

She doesn't say, "I'm sorry."

Hinamori Momo simply looks at him, absentmindedly biting her lips, excitement in her eyes, bright in the shade of violet.

There's this gap between them, and it's growing still, as they stand still. It seems too late to bridge, the clock is ticking, and there's nothing he can do. Except wait. She will act, and then he will respond. That's how it's always been. He reacts to _her_, never the other way round.

She hasn't said anything yet.

But she will.

Her happiness masks her sadness, rose red lips widen into a beautiful smile; and she hugs him, holding on tightly. And he doesn't want to let go.

He wants to say something other than _that_—(that he loves her, he always has, he always will and will never stop)—that this is the furthest apart that they've ever been. It scares him, how she'll always have a part of him that he can never reclaim; but he's—

"Goodbye, Kira-kun." Stepping back, she fares one last smile, brimming with tenderness. "I'll miss you."

Truth is, he's lost his chance long ago.

Echoing the mumbled sentiment, the blond draws himself away, restraining himself from lingering in her presence. He knows how easily it is to be tongue-tied in her presence, and somehow he knows that the brunette isn't fooled by his stutters. But then, Momo has a talent for seeing through him and accepting him all the same.

He lets go, and waits for her to walk away.

The image is too much for him to see, so he closes his grey eyes and counts to ten; reluctant for the sound of her footsteps dancing against the floor.

… nothing.

There's nothing.

No sound, no clack of shoes against the linoleum, no skip, no hop, no jump.

Nothing.

He waits and waits, straining his ear for that nuance of sound. His patience expires, and grey blue eyes open slowly, unsure what to see.

It's just as he expects.

She's not there.

Shoulders slump, eyes lower, and gradually, he makes his way to the wide window. He's a stranger here, there's no one to greet or say farewell anymore. That moment has passed, and yet something intrinsic binds him here. Wills him to savour and cherish this last moment of seeing her.

To never forget the beam on her face.

He'd like to think that he can remember every inch of her grin, her electric megawatt smile of brilliant light, and can retrace it in an instance. Like dominoes, the pieces descend, nostalgia falling into place.

A little forlornly, Izuru Kira smiles.

Even if he _had_ said something, it wouldn't have changed a thing.

She's going to America.

Why would she stay for him?


	3. leave it on the empty shores

**heartbreak on your face**

_III; Centre of Attention – Jackson Waters_

– 

"_Hmm?"_

_Iridescent eyes blink prettily, lashes fluttering in conjunction with her wrinkling nose. Indigo orbs widen with curiosity, but she remains unmoving, poised underneath the tree, hands clasping her knees. Her head tilts enquiringly, and pink lips shimmer into a smile._

"_Are you…" Slightly bemused, slightly amused, Momo asks him, unsure how to start. "… is that thing on?"_

"_Yeah." Izuru nods, pressing the 'record' button. This is what she wanted, after all, and he can't refuse her anything. "Ready?"_

_She laughs, carefree, and her toes curl, her sign of consent. Reclining on the tree, she straightens her clothes, smoothing out the creases of her t-shirt and dusting her blue jeans. "Mmhmm. Let's do it." _

"_Okay then." Uncertain how to prompt her, his free hand flails, gesticulating wildly in order to serve as a hint for her to proceed. "When you're ready, Momo."_

_It surprises him how easily he can call her by her first name. From Hinamori-kun to Momo-san to Momo. Sometimes he forgets, and she gently reminds him, a teasing tone of amusement written on her face._

"'_kay." Bashfully, she bites her bottom lip, while a coral pink flush taints her skin. Then she smiles, because she's enjoying this: this is something she wants to do._

"_Hi. I'm Hinamori Momo." Giggling at her introduction, without the slightest reason, her laughter fills the silence, and Izuru chuckles alongside her. Because this feels ridiculously odd. "I'm…" She stops, and starts again. "… I… this is weird. Really, really weird. And… I have no idea what to say."_

"_Um." Neither does he, but adjusts the camcorder to buy some time to think. Steadying his hand, he tries to relax. Breathe; in, out. It's going to be fine. It's just a little memento for later. "What about your age? You might forget, later." Taking a stab in the dark, he advises her something that may or may not be useful. "Or… you can say whatever comes to mind. We can redo this later, if you want."_

_Full lips widen, pearl white teeth shine, before puckering into a pout. Its little moments like this, these gestures of gratitude that will be recorded and remembered, even if they're withered and grey. This is their pebble, forgotten in the abstract, but able to capture this one moment, out of many. Because they wanted to._

"_Alright." She smiles once more, she's thought of something; and there's a mixture of embarrassment and awkwardness and vulnerability and a thrill that sends shivers to the insides of her bones. "I'm going to try again."_

_A pause, the brunette composes herself once more._

_And the camcorder keeps rolling, inscribing this data for some future nostalgia._

"_My name is Hinamori Momo. I'm fifteen years old." A thoughtful expression passes as she inhales and exhales, her body shifts once more, unable to stay still. "We – that is, myself and, how can I forget, my best friend, Izuru Kira, the camera man – are in Karakura Park. This has to be one, if not my favourite spot, that I hang out with my friends, out of school." Her head tilts, and Momo can't resist. "Isn't that right, Izuru?"_

"_Yeah." Mumbling slightly, he hadn't expected that Momo had intended to include him. Heat rises onto his cheeks, and he's embarrassed, even though it's him who guides the camcorder's lens. "Actually, we're missing Renji, but he'll turn up sooner or later."_

"_I bet he's mooning over Rukia-chan." Nodding to herself, Izuru thinks she's probably right. "He seems to really like her." And then she moves, trying to pose somewhat enthusiastically, no doubt meant to be a figure of inspiration, and later, as they'll both reflect, an icon of utter cheesiness. "Abarai Renji. Future Renji. Best of luck; um, try not be a hothead, and I hope you're happy."_

_Stretching out her legs, Momo's sandals seemed to have slipped of her feet, but the teenager doesn't appear to mind, as long as the grass is green and soft._

"_Right now, I want to be an actress. Current me, at least." Grinning, both know how easy she is liable to change, whether it's five seconds or five days. Her path is not set in stone, and she likes dabbling in possibilities. "Future me, if you're something different to what I aspire to be now, like… um…"_

_Her nose crinkles, a plea for help._

"_A dentist." Helpfully, the blond supplies, and she flashes a grateful smile._

"_Yeah! If you're a dentist, or an accountant, or a lawyer or a community service worker… if you're something completely unrelated to even that…" Her brows knit together, trying to recall where she was going with this angle. "… I forgive you. Um, that sounds odd. But you're me, so you should understand, right? Right." She doesn't wait for a response, and continues. "So long as it's something you want to do – and have a fun time doing it – then it's okay."_

_Cerise lips glisten. Violet eyes flutter._

_Moments like this – he really doesn't want to forget._

"_And hey, future me, I want you to remember this."_

_Wind bursts forth, blowing past them as it pleases, breezing through the branches and plucking off the leaves. One leaf falls into her waiting hands, and she examines said leaf diligently, fascinated for some reason. She sees something that he does not._

_Then, just as the wind leaves, it returns once more and takes that leaf from her unresisting hands. And Momo, wistful, watches it in flight, its delicate body threatened to be torn into shreds, twisting and turning by puffs of air._

_But by now, it's too far away, and she cannot distinguish this one leaf from another, try as she might under sun dappled skies._

_Still she searches, though both know it's in vain._

_Murmuring something, Izuru is never sure if he hears her properly, because her lips move, yet no sound is produced. Stolen words, taken by the wind. Only later remembered by the camcorder._

"… _can we be in love again?"_


	4. our house made of paper

**heartbreak on your face**

_IV; Under the Sheets – Ellie Goulding_

– 

Life goes on.

And that's what scares her most, really.

Life continues, even when the air she breathes freezes against her lungs and she can't remember how to inhale, or when the world feels like its ending.

It goes on and on and on, never stopping once.

– 

Momo thinks of him, just before her eyes close and the movie's credits roll. She's flying, farther and farther away, and somehow, she feels cold, even though there's a blanket wrapped around her, making her feel secure.

Yet she can feel him, his warmth remains with her, close to her heart. Always.

She doesn't want to forget that moment, when they parted and gave one final hug.

She doesn't want to forget how his eyes say goodbye; in that sorrowful away that leaves her feeling guilty and unsure what to think.

Unsure whether to leave him.

But she has to – she's going to America.

It's an opportunity. A chance. A risk that she knows that will be worth it.

Even so, she wonders.

Would it have been better if she had said something different?

But sometimes _goodbye_ rings louder than _I love you._

– 

It's not fair, she thinks, pen hovering over paper.

_Dear Izuru,_

She crosses it out.

_Izuru-kun,_

No, that's not right either.

_Dear Izuru,_

That will have to do. For now. She can change it later. Find the words that make it right.

She takes a breath, rubbing her eyes because of crocodile tears. They must be. They have to be.

She doesn't _get_ to miss him. That's not how it works.

_How are you? Are you alright? What about Renji? Is he still going steady with_

Not the way she does.

_I'm fine. I _

She puts the pen down. Tries to fight the tears that fall like rain, sliding down her cheeks.

She starts again.

_Hey, Izuru. _

_How are you? _

_I'm sorry_

It was _she_ who ended things. It was _her_ who decided that they were better as friends.

_Dear Izuru, _

_I (miss)_

And he…

_I (want to say)_

_I (still)_

_I'm sorry I have written to you yet. I guess I've been busy. But really, it's just that I _

"Oh, _kami._" And she can't stop it, the tidal wave of emotion that crashes all around her. She thinks she's drowning, and she can't smile when there's nothing—no air to inhale.

_I_

She didn't get to miss him. Not the way she does.

– 

(Momo scrunches up the paper, then unravels it and tears it into pieces.

Nobody should know.

Not even him.)

Instead of paper, she uses her skin; writing the words in hope of it being similar to a tattoo.

She wants those words to be embedded on her flesh, never to fade.

– 

Life goes on.

That's the problem.

Five years pass too easily, too quickly.

By then, permanent ink has washed away, lost and forgotten too many times.

But what it represents clings to the cold beat of her pulse.

– 

Her bags are packed, and maybe now she'll find that place that is meant to be called home.

If only she could find her heart too, a pretty trinket that was left behind along the way.


	5. take my hand

**heartbreak on your face**

_V; Can't Help Falling in Love – Ingrid Michaelson_

– 

_He thinks he knows right from the start._

_It must have been love._

_The moment he saw her for the first time, he knew it was love._

_A big toothy grin, amazingly wide eyes, and skin as fair as milk, he remembers those characteristics so clearly. Her hair, cute in pigtails, reminded him of dark chocolate, for some reason. And yet it was richer than that, richer than chocolate and richer than chestnuts, two molten browns that paled in comparison to her._

_There's a bounce in her skip as she approaches him, eager to make friends. Why she chose him, he'll never know. _

_Maybe he just caught her eye. He'd like to believe that._

_And her smile stays on her face, bright in excitement._

_One hand clings to her Princess and the Frog lunchbox, the other extends, ready for a 'shake._

"_Hi there!" Pinkish cheeks blossom into red, like spring turning into summer. Maybe she's a bit nervous. But still. She stays where she is, in front of him, excited to make introductions and find friends along the way. "I'm Momo!"_

"_I'm… I'm Izuru." He stutters out, managing to do so after a pause. Uncomprehendingly, he stares at her outstretched hand. "Um…"_

"_Oh." Sadness wrinkles her nose, and Momo blinks quickly in succession. He wants to say something, but… nothing comes out. Her hand lowers to her side. "I guess you don't want to 'shake…"_

_Flustered, Izuru's cheeks flare, his shyness has muted him completely… so he shakes his head instead._

"_Hey, it's okay." She looks bashful, but smiles once more. "I don't like them either; I just thought that guys did. They always shake in the movies."_

"…" _He nods along with her, and that makes her seem more relaxed._

"_I like hugs more." Momo decides to tell him, satisfied with his answer. "I think they're the best things in the world!"_

"… _hugs?" Cautiously, he echoes that word, and it leaves a strange taste in his mouth. Like cookie dough or something._

"_Yeah!" She nods, violet eyes bright. This is something she knows and can talk about with ease. Enthusiasm lights up her face, and he thinks at that moment that she's a star, one that he'd wish on every night. "I'll show you."_

_And that star falls, narrowing the distance… and he catches her._

_Her arms wrap around his back, cheeks resting against his chest. Both of them pretend that he didn't squeak, taken by surprise._

_He feels a bit like a penguin._

… _and while it's nice, being a penguin, it's also awkward._

"… _you're supposed to hug back, you know." Her voice is muffled, but he hears her loud and clear._

"_Um…"_

"_It's easy." And he can feel her smile. "Just put your arms around me. Like I put my arms around you."_

"_Just that?" _

"_Just that."_

_So he does, arms encasing her tiny frame, unintentionally pulling her closer to him._

_Oh._

_That's better._

"_See? Best thing in the world." _

_She looks up, and he looks down, and it's that moment, right there, with joint smiles and upturned lips that an inescapable bond is built between them._


	6. romance your ego for a while

**heartbreak on your face**

_VI; Illuminated – Hurts_

– 

White has always suited Rukia; Momo has always known that.

Abarai Rukia.

She likes the sound of that.

The bride to be passes her on the aisle, and she's radiant. Beautiful, from the shimmer of her indigo orbs, to the bound of her locks, smooth as molasses, to the graceful sweep of her white wedding dress. It seems as if she's floating on her personal cloud nine, and not even angels dare to stay awhile.

Momo cannot help but cry, silent in the sidelines.

It feels like the stuff of fairytales – of things she used to believe in.

True love.

– 

"You may now kiss the bride."

It's perfect.

Red and black seem to merge, their curtain of privacy; brown and amethyst irises close; and cerise and gold unites them for eternity.

It's a pretty palette of colours that will never stop spinning, a rainbow's purest form.

And it's funny, in a way, because Momo never thought that he'd get his happy ending first.

– 

Meeting him is inevitable. He's Renji's best friend. Of course he'd be there at the wedding.

She stumbles over her shoes – high heels that she never really accustoms to – and he catches her.

And she'd always know his touch.

She'd always know it's him.

"Are you alright?" He asks, a low murmur in her ear, her face turned away from his.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She mumbles, disengaging from his familiar arms. Head downcast, she smoothes out the crinkles of her dress, giving herself time to think and recompose herself. Her cheeks are red, a warm flush of embarrassment that will not fade away as easily as she hopes.

So she looks up, meeting his gaze. Sees his startled eyes from long ago, and the recognition that hurts them both; but she won't look away.

"Hi."

And she feels it, light as the air she breathes, almost mistaking it for nothing.

The flutter in her chest.


	7. hope is here, in a plastic bag

**heartbreak on your face**

_VII; Wires - Athlete_

– 

"_What do you think?" She asks with a grin, her ears somehow able to waggle her large sunglasses. "Do they suit me?"_

"_Hmm, give me a moment." Izuru teases, well aware of her whimsical shopping habits, and how she likes to pick and choose, before suddenly dropping them; showing off to him because it's amusing._

_If he waits a second longer, she'll lose interest and select another. Because they shine. Because they're blue. Because they're circular. Minute details that he doesn't quite understand why it matters, since they suit her, anyway._

"_Forget it then." Momo huffs, cheeks puffed out, indicating her frustration. Putting the sunglasses away, she finds another one that takes her fancy for the moment. "If it's not an instant yes, then it's an instant no."_

"_And… what if I was simply blown away and couldn't say a thing?"_

"_But you __**did**__ say something."_

"_Yes, but… what if I was simply trying to buy more time to admire you?"_

"_Maybe." Momo concedes, nodding. But she's not going to let this banter go, just yet, judging by the twinkle in her eyes that refuses to be quenched. Particularly since she's in a playful mood today, even more chipper than usual. "But then, I know you too well. I'd know the second you'd be blown away."_

"… _I'm still paying, aren't I?"_

"_You are my boyfriend, Izuru." Violet eyes grow big, successfully pulling off her 'puppy eyes' that both of them know that he can never refuse._

"_Okay, just this once." He mumbles, giving in._

"_Yay!"_

"_And because you're my girlfriend."_

_She grins impishly, something which he adores, and kisses his cheek, close enough to touch the corner of his mouth. She loves it when he says that word, euphoria lighting her face into a pretty pink blush._

"_Best boyfriend ever."_

– 

_Twisting daisy stalks until they break, Hinamori lies on her back, utterly oblivious to the grass stains that will no doubt ruin her clothes._

_Smiling to himself, Izuru watches her._

_Clouds scatter, and yet he has the feeling that they tease him, about to taint the skies with the notion of rain._

_And yet, it honestly doesn't matter._

_It's just him and her in their favourite park, spending time together. Dating._

_Momo's hair is unkempt, let loose and windswept. Yet it does nothing to reduce her beauty. Instead, there's a rustic nostalgia that compliments her flushed pallor. _

_Right there, it happens._

_All because of her absentminded smile, that dances on the corners of her lips._

"_I love you."_

_It both surprises him and doesn't surprise him, because he thinks he's always known it to be true, but never admitted it before._

_Until now._

_Today._

"_What?" Dazed, she blinks quickly, uncertain of what she just heard. Her eyes snap to his, and she forgets the flowers that lie in her, and consequently slip to the ground as she sits up. "Say that again."_

"_I love you." He says, and he feels so much lighter. Like everything is lightening, and saying it frees him. "You. Only you. There's no one else that makes me feel this way. I love you, Momo. I love—"_

_And she kisses him, lips cutting him off._

"_I love you too." Whispering against his mouth, just as she pulls away, her forehead rests on his. "Always. I'll love you for ever and ever."_

_He means it._

_She means it._

_Chastely, he kisses her, and cherishes the way she smiles. And he smiles back, because she's adorable and he loves her._

_Happiness._

_They found it._

"_Best girlfriend ever."_


	8. i have found my angel

**heartbreak on your face**

_VIII; Slow Poison – The Bravery_

– 

He's never been lucky, never thought himself as such.

So when he catches her, delicate in his arms, it's just his luck that it turns out to be Hinamori.

When she smiles, a sad type of smile that shouldn't exist, Kira Izuru is certain that something broken has fragmented into smaller shards.

Just like last time.

– 

"Hi."

"Hi." Quietly, he says, unable to believe it. She's here, in the flesh. And he feels numb. "Momo."

Neither one knows what to say, aside from their greeting. They've become strangers, living apart for far too long. But that—that's not true.

They're friends.

Friends.

"How are you?"

"I'm fine." Instantly, she says, an automatic response. "Fine. Well, I've finally finished my course in America – although I'm still a pirate."

Izuru laughs at that, a small chuckle, because he knows exactly what she means. Little things that he thought he'd forgotten.

"You haven't changed, Momo." And he smiles, despite himself.

She's like the sun, telling the rain to go away. And he is powerless to stop her, drawn into this splendour.

"I missed that." Momo murmurs, admitting something.

"… what?"

"Your voice. Your laughter. You." Softly, she sighs, breaking eye contact.

"You could have called." He points out.

"But I didn't." And at that moment, she is further away than he could have possibly imagined.

"Why not? Five years, Momo. What happened?" He doesn't understand, but his tone is gentle, only lightly reproaching her.

"Life happened. I guess I got carried away by the currents. I meant to write—meant to call, but…"

"Momo, I get it. It's fine. I… I just missed you too." Because five years far too long for them to talk to each other. "That's all."

"Yeah." She smiles, and it matches the one on her face. "Okay."

Silence takes them here, but it's more comfortable than before.

And he knows: he's found his shard of contentment once more.

Maybe it's a fragment.

But it's there, and it's his.

– 

Music starts – the bride and groom are having the first dance.

Abarai Renji and Abarai Rukia.

Izuru and Momo watch them quietly, relaxed and basking in each other's company.

There's nothing to say, and that's alright.

Because they were friends before lovers… as much as he'd like their relationship to be something more.

– 

"Dance with me." He says, to her, spontaneous, after enough time has passed, and he's mustered up the courage to say something new.

"What?" She looks at him, bemused, and a grin trying to flicker on her face.

"Dance with me." Repeating himself, he nods enthusiastically, overjoyed without comprehending why. "For old times sake. What do you say?"

"Alright." And she _does_ smile, like she used to, how he remembered. None of that sadness, but a cheekiness and utter bliss. "But only if you take me out for coffee sometime. So we can catch up."

"I'd like that." Izuru grins.

– 

And he swears that it will not turn out like last time.


	9. keep giving me looks

**heartbreak on your face**

_IX; It's Only Natural – The Higher_

– 

_It's a collision – that's how Izuru would say is the best way to describe it._

_She was upset, and he was comforting her. The reason why doesn't really matter, even if she was only slightly upset. Because at the end of the day, he was the one who could make her smile again. A gift, he thinks, that he takes pride in, although he'd never admit it out loud._

_He kisses her forehead, between her brows, his favourite spot, the gap that creases when her eyebrows furrow. It's cute._

_That was the catalyst._

_And maybe it's because he didn't pull away fast enough, and she couldn't stop gazing at him with doe eyes._

"_Izuru…" There's something different in how she says it. Only slightly different, but he catches that nuance all the same._

_Momo looks up and Izuru looks down and it must be gravity or something that pulls them together…_

… _and he kisses her nose._

"_Um."_

"_Let's try that again?" On the brink of giggling, because she knows what he's up to, half-smiling, a dimple dancing on her cheek, the girl takes the initiative. Tugging on t-shirt, she stands on her tiptoes and murmurs teasingly. "Shall we?" _

_Huh._

_First kisses._

… _they're kind of nice._

– 

_They laugh about it afterwards._

_About how awkward and endearing it was – whilst they hold hands and cannot seem to stop._

– 

_It feels right._

_So they leave it at that._


	10. a prisoner of history

**heartbreak on your face**

_X; I'm In Here – Sia_

– 

_We were happy once._

_So what happened?_

… _I don't know._

… _life?_

_Maybe._

…

_I guess we just—sort of—fell apart._

– 

She wakes up in his arms; face furrowed in his chest, counting the seconds until she realizes that this is not a dream.

Her head is _killing _her.

How much did she drink last night?

And—_oh._

Izuru.

_Izuru._

Back-pedalling, she tumbles out of the bed, shrieking slightly as it happens—and to her horror, she is completely naked.

"No." Embarrassment tinges her cheeks red, the colour of sunset, hot and bright. Her hair falls in front of her irises, completely mussed up, and for a second, it veils her from the strewn out clothes that are all across—presumably—Izuru's apartment. "No, no, no."

This _cannot _be happening.

Kira Izuru mumbles something, before shifting, still safe in his slumber.

– 

Wash.

She needs to wash.

Right now.

– 

Hinamori Momo remembers dancing. Remembers taking her ex-boyfriend's hand and never letting go.

… she remembers drinking, but that's about it.

– 

Her kisses ghost her neck, lingering long after his touch has ending. No amount of water can wash that away, it seems.

And each kiss—pressed with care and tenderness—begs of her not to go.

But she scrubs and scrubs and scrubs, to no avail.

– 

She's got nowhere to go, and she can't find her wallet, so she sits on a sofa, waiting until he wakes up.

Maybe then they can talk.

She can't bear to leave – she feels lost, right now, and there's a hollow ache that's seeped into her bones, and has settled there for quite some time.

Tries to think clearly, about what she should do and what she should say next.

Doesn't seem to do any good.


	11. pushed by a breeze

**heartbreak on your face**

_XI; Boats and Birds – Gregory and the Hawk_

– 

He wakes to the smell of coffee and bacon in the air.

"Morning sunshine! Breakfast's ready." Momo sings, light on her feet and glowing as she sets the plates on the table.

… it feels so domestic somehow, and so very dreamlike.

– 

"Did we…" Cautiously trying to confirm on what exactly happened last night without saying it aloud, Izuru's face heats up all the same.

"Um." Momo nods slowly, cheeks cerise. "I think so. Yes."

"I… don't think I drank much. Guess I'm a light-weight." He attempts to laugh, but fails miserably.

"I must be one too then."

It's awkward and stilted and the conversation has become stagnant.

Thus the two continue to cut and eat the food that has been deliciously prepared.

– 

"I'm sorry."

"What?" Blinking, Momo is concerned. "Why?"

"For…" Izuru shifts and flicks his gaze back to his bedroom.

"Oh! Yeah. That." Blushing equally as much as he is, Momo can't quite meet his eyes. "Don't be. It's what happens when people get drunk. Not all the time, but—"

She's rambling, a habit that he's forgot that she does when she's nervous.

"But it's a first. For me." Quietly, the blonde murmurs, sinking into his chair.

"Yes, it certainly is. For me as well." Nervously, she admits, unsure how to respond. "But I'm glad it was you. If I had to choose someone – in the unlikely situation of it happening again – I would choose you. Again. Even though I'm _never_ drinking another drop."

"I think I'd toast to that." With a slight smile, they pour out the coffee, and chink cups. Nothing is better than a drop of caffeine in their bloodstream. "And I think… I'd choose you, if I had to choose again."

They share a smile, and he wonders if he's ever fallen out of love with her.

"Izuru… what I'm trying to say… is that' it's not your fault." Gentle eyes soften and seek him out, trying to sooth him. "If you're to blame, then I am as well."

– 

He doesn't know how he's done it, but somehow, he's convinced her to live with him. They've collected all her bags, and now… they're taking a detour.

– 

"The park? I haven't been here in _ages_!"

Taking hold of his hand, she leads up to their favourite spot, and he swears it's only because they're entwined like a picture perfect puzzle that he hasn't stumbled over his feet.


	12. rises with the fall

**heartbreak on your face**

_XII; Let Go – Imogen Heap_

– 

"Tell me, _pirate_, where are you going?"

"I'm off to yonder hills. I have to find the island."

"_What_ island?"

"_My_ island."

"So what's on _that_ island?"

"Treasure galore. Rum and yore."

"… rhyming for fun, now, are you?"

"You bet! Now, Izuru, continue?"

"Um… where was I… is there a house you'd call home?" And he's lost it, the momentum of the speech that they'd use to practise every day. Actually, it's a miracle he's remembered this much.

"Oh, you ruined it." She wrinkles her nose and sits back, leaning on her favourite tree. She's had a lot of good memories here. "And we had such a good pace too…"

"_You're_ the one who rhymed, Momo." Kira Izuru mutters, lightly chastising her. "Completely made me break character, little miss actress."

"Clearly, _you're_ not one for improvisation!" Boots clicking, they fold over each other, nestled perfectly, just like she used to do every time they sat here and talked. Momo pulls a face, one that generates a laugh.

"Maybe. I'm just glad your acting phase has passed." He lifts his hands, gesturing his surrender.

"Yeah, well, it fun while it lasted."

– 

The story goes like this: there is a pirate who is looking for his island. An island that has lots of treasure, and he will claim it as his. Eventually, he finds that island; but he cannot find his place to call home. He builds a house, but that's not home. He makes a fortune, but that's not home either.

So the pirate wanders, until he finds home with naught but a penny in his pocket.

Momo likes that story, loves that pirate.

And she knows that the story isn't hers.

– 

"Why did you go?" He asks her, staring at the sun that's filtered by green foliage.

"It felt like the thing to do – I had a great opportunity, and I took it. It was something… new." It's strange, but she thinks that's the right answer. "It's… what I've always done. Reinventing myself again and again, because I don't think I can stop."

"But… you can. What you're doing—that can't last forever. The past isn't something you can escape from so easily as that. You carry those burdens all your life, and if you're lucky, you can lighten the load."

"Izuru…" She looks at him, but he won't spare her a glance. If she touches him, he'd only flinch. And his anger scares her, not fearful of her life, but how he's changed – less of pushover, and firmer in what he thinks. When he has to, he speaks his beliefs. And all this time, she's been trying to change her skin.

"I just," he exhales deeply, frustrated. "I just want you to be yourself."

"…"

"I just want you to be Momo."


	13. no different when you're older

**heartbreak on your face**

_XIII; Measuring Cups – Andrew Bird_

– 

To be Momo.

They confuse her, those three words.

She _is_ Momo, no matter how she tried to act. That's what she believes – because inventing herself is only pulling out the aspects she likes or dislikes and emphasizes or ditches them.

It's an experiment, revealing her multilayered personality. Like finding the depth of sky, she knows she'll find it someday.

Words. Smiles. Gestures.

She's an act, and doesn't know how to entertain.

No—that's not… that's not… she's confusing herself.

"Momo?"

"I…"

He's looking at her, and her mind is coming to a blank.

She doesn't know how to respond.

Doesn't realize that sometimes that's okay.

– 

They sit under the willow tree, reflecting different things.

But it's nice.

Comfortable.

And Momo thinks that she could, once again, sit here forever, by his side.

– 

"Remember my first dream?" She starts, brushing back a lock of hair behind her ear. "The _very_ first, among my list of many."

"Um…" His grey-blue eyes look up, and he tries to remember what it was, sorting through the files of his memory. "The library one?"

"Close. The book shop one." Momo corrects, with a smile, glad that he recalls. He's always been dependable like that, and she's always found herself so prone on leaning on him… until she realized that she was taking advantage. "I want to make it a reality."

"Think you can do it?" A slight smile lets his mouth curve, the faintest trace of teasing. "You don't want be to a pirate any more?"

"I know I can do it." Confident, she meets his challenge with a giggle. "Being a pirate is fun, but I think, in the end, it's not the job for me. Sure, it's great while it lasts, but… if I stick to that path, who knows when I'll find 'that' home. Even if that's not my tale to live, and I try to make it fit." She blinks, and though she stutters with hesitance, Hinamori Momo perseveres. "I want to set up a bookshop, and… I want you to be there, by my side."

"How?" Softly, he asks, and there's something written on his face, and she wonders if she mirrors his expression.

Friend. Lover. She could say either, and maybe he'd comply. Maybe he wouldn't.

It's not certain.

And, she sorts of likes it – dangling under the threads that hold everything in balance; but then… she doesn't, because she loves him. She always has, but maybe it's only until now that she knows how. She's always loved him, and that love has grown, developed, and she wants to show him when she's sober.

She doesn't know which he wants to be, after the events of last night, and she doesn't want to take him for granted.

But she wants him to be there.

"You decide." With a meek grin, she tells him, waiting with baited breath.

Without saying a word, he kisses her gently. Reciprocating, she doesn't want it to end, but…

"Is this okay?" Izuru asks her, breathing shallow, his hands still on his cheek.

"Yes." She nods, cheeks growing rosy. _"Yes."_

– 

It's not the beginning, nor is it the end.

No, more like, they're in the middle of what they've started.

They've drifted apart, now they're drifting towards each other.

– 

This could be it.

Their moment.

– 

She holds his hand, and he holds her heart.

And she thinks that maybe, they're going to be okay after all.

– 

**a/n.**_ Thanks for reading and reviewing! I had a great time writing this._


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